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The Post Office Engines
Dear Friends, At the end of the Lower Valley Railway at the Valley Station, there lies a terminus leading to a small but important little railway that only the railwaymen and engines know about. The Tanishima Post Office Railway goes through the Island's capital city, with the biggest stop on the line at their own little Works station near the mountain. Two prototype twin engines have been brought in. Number 1 has been a hazardous little engine, and he was difficult to work with. However, his brother, Number 2, is a much more dependable engine, and has been dreaming of being the railway's express engine! He's made plenty of new friends, and has even helped an older one... The Author The Secret Railway Every morning, Edward Mann's first train starts off at the harbor. He collects several bright red vans, and puffs away all the way to the Valley Station at the other side of the railway. It's a long and tiring journey, and he usually doesn't return until late in the afternoon. Smudger was often curious about it. He himself often worked the main passenger duties, and he was growing increasingly bored. One night, he spoke to Edward Mann about it. “You? Bored?” Edward Mann said in surprise. “How could you be bored?” “It's the same sights every day,” Smudger sighed. “What's that morning run you do? Could we switch trains?” Edward Mann paused to think about it. “Sure thing,” he said, “but we should talk to our Drivers first.” Early the next morning, they spoke to their Drivers about it, and when they said “yes”, Smudger hurried away to the harbor. Waiting for him in the siding were the bright red vans. Each were piled high with sacks of letters and parcels from the nearby ship. “A Post Train?” Smudger said to himself as he backed down to be coupled up. Just then, the Guard blew his whistle. “Come along, Smudger,” his Driver said. “The mail can't wait!” Smudger was caught by surprise at how heavy the train was at first. But with a deep breath and a huge puff, he soon had the heavy train in motion. As the valley line was nowadays restricted to the primary passenger traffic, Smudger had to make his way down the coastal route. At last, he made it to the Valley Station. A man in a red suit was waiting for him. “You're the new engine?” he said. “Please, shunt the vans in there.” He pointed at a tunnel at the end of the platform. “Yes, Sir,” Smudger tooted in reply, and then puffed slowly into the tunnel. As he did so, a squeaking voice echoed out. “No no no!” it said. “Not like that! Push them in, not pull them. We don't like getting smoke in here!” Smudger blushed in embarrassment. Quickly, he reversed to the sidings, and put the vans in front of him. He then pushed them into the tunnel. “There!” the little voice squeaked. “Now that's how you do it.” In the mouth of the tunnel, Smudger looked around, and there on the lower track beside him was the weirdest looking engine he had ever seen. It had no driver, and had two large wheels in front, two more in back, and a long truck in between, with four open slots. The engine was painted red, and looked more like a motor mounted on wheels. “You're the first-timer?” he asked Smudger. “Welcome to our humble little railway!” “Hello,” said Smudger in a curious tone. “I'm Smudger, and who are you?” “I don't have a name,” the engine replied. “I'm number 755, if that works for you.” “No name?” Smudger asked. “There's too many of us to name!” 755 laughed as another engine rolled in. “And here's 827.” The workmen opened up Smudger's vans. “So what do you guys do?” Smudger went on. “Oh, we're the post engines,” 827 said. “After the mail gets sorted at these sorting centers, we take mail around to the post offices. It's heavy work, but it's a lot of fun. They put the mail in those little carts,” he said, glancing down at the mail, “and then we carry the carts between stops.” “But what about Drivers or Guards?” Smudger said. “Where are they?” “We have no use for them!” laughed 755. “We're electric, you see. They have this big system mapped out that makes us move all on our own!” “I don't think I could do that,” Smudger said quietly. “It sounds too dangerous to me.” “What are you talking about?” 827 said. “Such a big engine like you shouldn't have to worry about trouble!” Smudger tried not to laugh. “You guys don't get out much, do you?” “We're entirely underground!” 755 said as the carts were loaded onto him. “So we don't like having steam visitors too often. Now I best be going to talk some sense into Number 1.” “Oh, not him again,” 827 sighed. “I thought the Red Controller already talked to him?” “Apparently, he hasn't been able to get through to him,” 755 muttered. “Who?” Smudger asked. “Two new prototypes came in to try work,” 755 said. “They're brothers and one of them is a terror. All he does is complain. His brother started off like him, but he's much better already. If Number 1 doesn't shape up, I'm not sure our Controller will let him stay.” A workman pushed a button and, with a rattle and a hiss, 755 rumbled away into the smaller tunnel. It wasn't long until Smudger's train was finally empty, and the guard blew his whistle. Smudger puffed away back home, and for the rest of the day, he could only think of the little postal engines. That night, he talked to Edward Mann about them. “So,” the older engine asked, “do you like them?” Smudger chuckled.“Well they're different and odd,” he said, “but I can't say they're not interesting.” “They'll grow on you soon enough,” Edward Mann said with a smile. “Those little engines can be some of the most reliable friends you'll find anywhere.” “Now if only they had names,” Smudger grinned. “Then maybe I can remember them all!” Accidents Happen The two new prototype engines, numbers 1 and 2, were both determined to prove to the little postal railway that they were the best of all the engines. But the way they tried to prove themselves, however, were very different from each other. No. 2 stood for no nonsense and never liked to idle about. He had wanted to be the railway's express engine, taking the most urgent mail from one end of the line to the other without stopping. As much of a hard worker he was, he was tired of making so many little stops that he found so inconvenient. No. 1, however, was stubborn and cross. His idea of being the best worker meant that he wanted everybody else to conform to his standards. He always complained about every small problem, and he often bounced and rocked so much that he would derail. When that happened, they would have to cut the power to the line, and bring one of the three electric locomotives to rescue him. The Red Controller, who ran the railway, warned No. 1 several times, but the electric engine took no notice. “Dirty tunnels, dirty mail, dirty carts!” No. 1 was grumbling one evening while he pulled into the Workshop. He was relieved for a rest; all trains ran for 22 hours every day, and went to the Workshop for 2 hours to be inspected and serviced as necessary. “It's not so bad,” No. 2 said while he was being prepared to leave. “You get to stretch your wheels for some good miles. Some bigger engine aren't even allowed to go as fast as us.” “Pah,” grumbled No. 1 with a roll of his eyes. “Speed's all you live for, isn't it? Why not ask that big red man for a promotion or something, if you're so insistent about that Express?” No. 1 had only been joking; in his mind, he couldn't imagine a Controller allowing a new engine to pull such important mail. But No. 2 took his words to heart. For the rest of the night, he kept an eye out for the Red Controller. At last, he found him at the Valley Station stop that morning. He explained how he had felt. “You, pulling the Express?” The Red Controller said with surprise. “Yes, sir!” No. 2 said before quickly trying to contain his excitement. “I mean... it'll be a good way to learn the whole line, is all.” The Red Controller paused to think. “Your behavior's been good, much better than your brother's,” he said, “so I suppose I can give you a chance. After your work today is finished, come back here for your train. I suppose we could give it a shot.” No. 2 beamed and his axles tingled. “Thank you, Sir!” he said happily as he rattled off down the line with his mail. He wished he had a horn or whistle to show how happy he was. Evening came, and at the other end of the line, No. 1 was tired and frustrated. He wanted to get back to the Workshop as soon as possible, but he was carrying more mail now than he could stand. He was at the station and ready to go when the Operator appeared from his box. “The switches have short-circuited,” he said with a frown. “I can't change them, and the Express is due, so I can't allow No. 1 onto that line.” No. 1 scoffed. “Why not change the points further ahead, and I can switch onto another line before it comes through?” “Are you sure?” the Operator asked. “If you don't move quickly...” “I'd move faster if somebody pressed that button,” No. 1 interrupted rudely. “It'll be fine, old man, just let me get going!” The workman pushed the button, and No. 1 rattled down the tunnel. “Come ON, come ON!” he grunted to his carts as he began to pick up speed. He knew his little stunt was risky and dangerous, but he couldn't care less. All he wanted was to be back in the Workshop for his rest. Down the other end of the line was No. 2 with his own train. He was having tremendous fun thundering down the long tunnels, his wheels rattling and echoing everywhere. He had to slow down between stations, but the other engines were impressed at the excellent time he was making. He was just passing the Workshop Station when he thought he saw something coming the other way. He squinted to see better, until he realized, with much horror, that it was No. 1 heading right for him. “Hey! HEY! MOVE!” he cried out. He wanted to stop, but without a Driver, all he could do was shut his eyes and brace for the accident. There was a loud CLANG was his wheels suddenly left the rails; he was crossing over some points, but they had been set against him for No. 1 to pass. No. 2 tumbled off the rails, but not before No. 1 collided with No. 2's end. With a terrified shriek, No. 1 rolled over off the rails, his mail carts falling out. The two engines weren't badly damaged, and No. 2 had managed to remain upright, but No. 1's mail had spilled all over the ground. Both engines felt rather silly. But their embarrassment soon turned into worry, as there was nobody nearby, so there was no way for other trains to know about the crash. Luckily, the Signalman at the Workshop Station, who had expected No. 1's arrival, noticed he was delayed and grew concerned. He cut the power to the line and telephoned to the rest of the stations to warn them that danger may be ahead. Soon, two of the electric locomotives arrived from the Workshop to investigate, and a cleanup of the mess was quickly underway. Two other engines arrived to collect No. 1 and 2's mail. As the two engines were being checked back at the Workshop, the Red Controller arrived, having heard everything. “No. 2,” he said, “I hear you were doing well, at least, until the accident. Once you're mended. I'm willing to give you a second chance.” He then turned to No. 1. “You still haven't learned, have you?” he said angrily. “Hey, come on!” No. 1 spluttered in a disrespectful tone. “I just wanted to get back to the Workshop to rest!” “Well you'll be staying here for quite a while!” the Red Controller snapped. “I can't trust you to run on these rails again. You're going to stay here and taken apart, so we can figure out what's wrong with you.” No. 1 was awfully quiet for the rest of the night. Sushi Train No. 2 was back to work the following day. He wanted to go right back on the Express line, but the Red Controller thought otherwise. “We'll have you doing the usual mail runs for now,” he said kindly, “and after you know the whole line by heart, I'll let you back on the Express.” No. 2 was disappointed, but worked hard anyway. The winter season had come, and more mail was being transported every day. Sometimes two of the engines would have to be coupled up to move lots of mail to the furthest stations But the harder they worked, the more mail there seemed to be. Most of the mail was coming from overseas. More of the steam engines of the Little Controller's railway were put to work with the mail run, and No. 2 seemed to be meeting more unusual engines every day. One day, a small yellow engine had come to deliver the mail from the ship. She looked exhausted, but glad the job was done. She introduced herself to No. 2, who had just pulled in. “The name's Candy,” she whistled. “How'd you manage to pull all of that?” No. 2 asked in amazement as he examined her long train in amazement. “I've never seen so much trucks!” Candy chuckled. “It's hard work, but I always find a way to pull my train,” she said with a cheeky grin. “Ingenuity, my driver calls it.” No. 2 didn't completely understand what she meant, but he took her words to heart. He talked to the other engines about it, but they never stayed long enough to talk more about it. Whenever No. 2 met Candy again, she would tell him all about the station above the little underground railway. One day she told him about a new restaurant that had opened in the station. “It's called a Sushi train restaurant!” she chuckled. “Uhm, sushi...train?” No. 2 asked. “Sushi's some kind of fishy food that people eat,” Candy explained. “In a sushi train restaurant, the sushi rides along this long conveyor belt thing...” “And when you see the sushi you like,” Candy's Driver finished, “you grab it and eat it! The food's great, and it's so much fun.” “It doesn't sound so fun,” No. 2 said in confusion as he left. “There's not even a real train!” The next time he was at the Workshop, No. 2 told the workman examining him about it. “How can they call it a train if there's no engine?” he asked. The workman laughed. “My dad's the head chef there,” he said as he gave No. 2 a little polish. “I usually go up there on my break for lunch.” Just then, the manager appeared and handed the workman his schedule for the next day. The young man looked it over before frowning. “Well that sucks,” he sighed. “My break's been shortened for tomorrow because of New Year's. I won't have time to go to my dad's restaurant now.” No. 2 wanted to make him feel better somehow, but just then, another engine appeared, and he had to head off. For the rest of the night and into the morning, No. 2 was wondering how he could cheer the young workman up. “It'd be nice,” he said to 755 as he pulled into the station, “if they made that sushi train had a branch line down here for him.” 755 could only laugh as he rattled away. It was the middle of the afternoon as No. 2 was preparing to leave the Valley Station when suddenly, a large man ran onto the platform. In his hands were several boxes. “Oh, packages, sir?” said a workman nearby. “You need to head up to—” “Excuse me,” the man interrupted, “I'm Chef Nakajima, from the sushi train restaurant. Do you know my son, Tai? He's working late here, and I would like if you could bring him his favorite lunch, and I made some extra for his friends...” The workman was surprised, but No. 2 was delighted. “Yes, of course!” he said. “Just put it in this cart, and I'll bring it to him as soon as I can!” The chef loaded the cart with his bento boxes, and then thanked No. 2 and the workman before hurrying away. The still baffled workman pressed the button and No. 2 was on his way. At the next station just before the Workshop, they were unloading the carts when the little engine explained what was going on. They left one cart in him with the boxes, and sent him on his way to the workshop. When he arrived, the workman from before arrived. He was surprised to see No. 2 still carrying one of the mail carts. “Did they forget something?” he asked No. 2. “Nope,” No. 2 chuckled. “Special package delivery from a real sushi train!” Tai opened up the cart, and inside, he found the bento boxes. In the first box was his favorite lunch, lovingly prepared along with a note from his dad. Tai was absolutely thrilled. He shared the extra boxes of lunch with his friends, and after examining No. 2 from top to bottom, he gave the little engine an extra polish. No. 2 felt very proud to have helped his new friend. The workmen all thanked him, and told him that they would make Tai's dad's New Year's the best he ever had. For the rest of the evening, No. 2 rattled and sang up and down through the tunnels. At the Valley Station, he found out that outside, there was a big New Year's celebration going on. Candy had come to deliver passengers, and had peeked inside the tunnel for a visit. No. 2 told her about everything that had happened. “Well!” she chuckled with a warm smile as No. 2 prepared to leave. “Turning yourself into a sushi train to help your friend..that's quite some ingenuity!” No. 2 guessed that was a compliment...it sounded nice enough for him! The Quarry Ghost Winter came and went, and soon spring had come to the Island. This meant that the cherry blossoms would be blooming, and more people would be coming from all over the Mainland. The little post engines were busier than ever before; every day, the mail bags seemed to be getting heavier. No. 2 was put back on the Express service, so he got to visit the Valley Station more often than the other engines. He liked talking to the narrow gauge engines, and once even met an army jeep. One fine spring afternoon, a little old purple engine named Kudo puffed in with the mail vans from the harbor. He was covered in little pink cherry blossoms. No. 2 rattled in, and the two talked and joked for a while. “I love the spring,” Kudo said happily. “It reminds me of the old days, with Ji Yeon.” “Ji Yeon?” No. 2 asked. “What is that, some kind of holiday?” “No!” Kudo laughed. “She was an old friend of mine. My old line had a quarry, where she lived and worked. She would sometimes come down to help out on my line, but she always came down in the spring.” Kudo closed his eyes, remembering. “Oh, she loved our Cherry Blossom Special,” he said fondly. “We would couple up and pull passengers right to the valley's edge, and they would sit around and have picnics under the trees. Then when they were finished, we'd pull them all the way back through the town, and stop wherever they liked. “But after the line closed when the war started,” he continued with a frown, “her quarry was closed, but I haven't heard from her since. I hope she's doing okay.” No. 2 couldn't find the right words to say. “I hope so too,” he said quietly before he rattled back down his tunnel. At his next visit to the workshop, he found No. 761, who was preparing to leave. He told her all about Kudo's story. “Quarry?” she said. “I've heard that there was a haunted quarry out there, but that's all I know.” “Maybe if Kudo went there,” No. 2 asked, “he could find Ji Yeon, or maybe a clue where she is?” “I don't know,” 761 said, “but if you want my advice, ask anybody at the Valley Station. Maybe then you can find some real help for your friend.” No. 2 agreed, and waited impatiently for the workmen to finish his inspection. But while he was waiting, Daichi, the military jeep, drove into the workshop through the garage entrance. He was helping delivering new parts and tools for the engines. “Stupid blossoms!” he coughed crossly. “I can't stand that nasty smell!” “Hey, Daichi!” No. 2 called. “Can you do me a huge favor?” “Huh?” Daichi rolled up alongside No. 2. “Whatcha want, squirt?” No. 2 explained Kudo's story again. “Do you think,” he asked as politely as he could muster, “you could drive up to the quarry and find out what happened to his friend?” “Ikeda Quarry?” Daichi said in surprise. “That place has been abandoned for years! And if the locals are to be believed, it's crawling with ghosts too!” No. 2 made such a depressed face that Daichi's Driver had to agree. “Okay, fine, I'll check it out!” Daichi said at last. “But if anything happens to me, it's on your buffers, kid.” “But I don't have...” No. 2 was starting to say before Daichi roared away. Daichi made his way back to the Base safely. All of the old railway lines were officially gone, and Lewis's old shed had been converted into a little maintenance shop for the jeeps. The narrow gauge engines could never understand why Daichi was so proud of this. He collected some extra trainee soldiers, and they drove off to the quarry. The old tunnels had been boarded up for many years, but the simple wooden boards were rotting away. After they ripped the board off the entrance, Daichi slowly drove inside. The rails beneath him were rusted and broken, and as the tunnel grew darker, he had to turn on his headlights. The soldiers weren't frightened, but Daichi was shaking from axle to windshield. Every creek and groan from the old rotting tunnel made him yelp. Daichi didn't want to go any further, but his Driver edged him on. Before long, they drove up to what looked like a big, green tarp covering something in an old siding. Cautiously, the soldiers approached it and pulled it off, surrounding everyone in a big cloud of dust. And there, coughing loudly, was a long green tank engine. Her colors had faded, and many of her parts were covered in rust. She opened one eye and looked at the terrified jeep parked in front of her. “H-hello?” she whispered nervously. “W-who are you?” Before Daichi could reply, a familiar smell entered the tunnel. Just outside, the blossoms were in full bloom. Daichi snorted miserably at the flowery scent, but the little old engine started to smile. “Oh, it's spring...” she said quietly. “Does Kudo have our train ready?” The next time No. 2 saw Kudo, he was beaming from buffer to buffer. “They found her!” he was cheering to him. “I can't believe it! They really found her!” “They did?” No. 2 said. “How is she?” “It turns out she got locked away too, just like me,” Kudo explained. “But now she's being taken to the works. The Little Controller says he might even be able to improve her design! I don't know how this happened,” he finished as he looked over at No. 2, “but I haven't been this happy in years.” “Well, I'm glad to hear that, friend,” No. 2 said with a kind smile, just as the workman pressed the button. Kudo whistled goodbye as his little red friend rattled away, down into the tunnels of the secret post office railway.